Chapter Thirty-Seven
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
PRE-PARTY
‘From out here you get a full view of the main stage. Enjoy!’
There were two parties in one. An open house on the penthouse’s main level, and a private event in an adjoining room exclusively for the music producers, DJs, and other industry insiders, packaged as a ‘meet and greet’. Kya was not an insider. When Quinn was led away at the request of their host, his girlfriend, a stern redhead, steered Kya to the balcony and left her there to enjoy the view of the bayfront park turned festival grounds. Although, you didn’t need a penthouse view to see the stage. It was a beast, likely visible from outer space, and crowned with a gigantic neon sun that tossed wavy rays of yellow and orange light in every direction. There were four stages in all, Kya learned, but only one truly mattered.
The gates did not open until four; however, the frenzy had begun. Kya better understood Corinne’s concerns but didn’t share them. She was into it. Who didn’t like a circus? Downtown Miami was overrun by festival-goers dressed in a rainbow of colours or hardly dressed at all, ripped jeans and T-shirts hanging on by a thread. They’d made this pilgrimage from the ends of the earth for the soul-liberating experience of partying inebriated in the crushing Miami heat. You had to respect that.
Kya left her post on the balcony in search of something to eat. All the usual suspects were gathered at this one address. A quick glance around confirmed it. Everyone looked vaguely familiar. She’d likely bonded with one or the other in a nightclub restroom, shared drinks at a bar, or danced until closing with the whole lot of them over the course of the week. Ivy and Amanda had both made it, too. Ivy was at one end of the room, chatting with a pair of identical twins in matching pink wigs, and pointedly ignoring Amanda, huddled on the couch with … Trevor?! Kya couldn’t believe it. Her money had been on Ivy.
At the buffet table, Kya recognized a woman she’d met at happy hour. Her name was Bree, if she remembered correctly. Bree wore an acid green minidress and her eyelids were painted a complementary shade of blue. She greeted Kya like a long-lost friend. ‘Are you here alone?’ she asked over the music.
‘My girlfriend is meeting with … whichever billionaire owns this place.’
She gave Kya a thumbs-up. ‘That would be my dad, and he can talk for hours. Follow me. The good stuff is upstairs.’
Kya happily followed her up a flight of stairs to a loft with a second, smaller buffet, and a bartender set up in a corner. This was a cosy offshoot of the rowdy open house. Downstairs, a dance battle had broken out on the living room floor. Up here, a small group of friends was spread out on the low sofas, talking quietly, sharing a laugh, and among them was Nick.
Nope! Not worth it! Kya thought. She wasn’t all that hungry.
She mumbled an excuse to Bree, before heading downstairs and returning to her spot on the balcony. She preferred the chill vibe out here.
It was no surprise to find him here. After she’d discovered his identity, Kya spent every free minute combing through his posts. His takes on the local entertainment industry had earned him an impressive following. Sadly, he used that platform to uplift what he called the ‘players’, the men, and dismiss any contribution made by women. Quinn was his favourite, but not his only target. He had a pattern. The bold, unapologetically sexy types triggered him. A while back, he became obsessed with a Miami dancer. Her performance in a viral pop video pushed her to stardom. Months later, she performed on stage at the MTV music awards. That was enough to set him off. He shared her photo and called her classless for having worn clear heels on the red carpet. In her defence, the heels were from an Italian design house and fresh off the runway.
Why would he do it? This was his world. Why fly above it, like a bird migrating south, and dump all over it? She would never understand guys like him. He needed access to these people, right?
Eventually, Kya would have to tell Quinn, but definitely not before her performance, and not afterwards, either. This was her big special day. Everyone deserved one, not just brides. She’d put a lot of effort into her set and her look. Her hair and make-up were professionally done. She wore a loose T-shirt over a pair of brushed gold denim shorts to the party, and stashed the matching halter top in her tote bag for later. She would look stunning in the custom-made set. Kya only wished that she had something more powerful than her iPhone to take photos. Maybe she could borrow Nick’s paparazzi camera or telescopic lens?
‘Hey, you! Are you hiding from me?’
It was no surprise he’d followed her outside, too. He cosied up to her, his back to the view.
‘Nicolas Lambert,’ she said.
‘We’re old friends now,’ he said, with a foolish grin. ‘Call me Nick.’
‘How about I call you Night Lite?’
Watching the colour drain from his face was immensely satisfying. Kya hadn’t meant to draw blood. She hadn’t come here with the intention of attacking him today. In fact, she’d done her best to avoid it. However, the damage was done, and there was nothing to do about it except revel in it.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said, finally.
‘I think you do,’ she said. ‘Look, I totally get why you chose that handle. Nick Lambert. Night Lite. NL. All the best artists preserve their initials. It’s just … Night Lite is a little childish, don’t you think? Sort of exposes you as the big baby that you are. Any kid can figure out what’s going on here. You have a crush on Quinn. She doesn’t feel the same. Your little heart is broken. You take to the internet to troll her. Quinn is totally fine with it, by the way. She doesn’t care what sad, insecure men have to say about her on social media, but I do. I care a lot. You and I are not so different, and you called it from the start. We have feelings for the same woman. Unlike you, my ego isn’t involved. I’d never intentionally hurt her, but I’d take down anyone who does.’
Before her eyes, Nick turned to stone. His jaw tightened and his mouth thinned to a straight line. His eyes were vacant and did not meet hers. They were fixed on something or someone behind her. Kya glanced over her shoulder, and her gaze collided with Quinn’s. She stumbled backwards and gripped the steel handrail for support. She was vaguely aware of Ivy hovering at the doorway, looking downright furious. For the moment, she could only focus on her person.
‘Listen. I can explain.’
What was there even to explain? By the look on her face, Quinn had heard everything. It was so unfair. Kya had taken every precaution to keep her out of this. To be thrown into this mess hours before taking the stage wasn’t cool. Kya resented Nick and herself, too. Why couldn’t she have held it together for just a while longer?
‘Is this what you were keeping from me?’ Quinn asked.
Kya nodded. Funny, she seemed more interested in this point than the revelation itself.
Nick spoke up. ‘You can’t believe a word she says. She’s a fraud; you know that.’
‘You’re the fraud, Nick. I knew it the day we met,’ Quinn said, coolly. ‘And don’t worry. It’s not like you’ve betrayed my trust, or anything. We were never friends. I won’t cry over this or lose any sleep. Enjoy your life, and I wish you success with your hateful little posts. Kya, let’s go.’
Hateful little posts … In the end, that was all he had. Kya would have felt sorry for Nick, but Quinn was pulling her away, and escaping with Quinn was all she wanted.
Ivy wasn’t as generous. She tore into him. ‘You talked a lot of trash under your stupid alias and made a lot of people miserable. The only silver lining is that I don’t have to pretend to like you anymore.’
Kya and Quinn made a quick getaway, ducking into the elevator without thanking the host or saying goodbye. Once they were alone, Quinn turned on her.
‘When did you find out?’
‘Late last night. I did a little digging—’
‘A little digging? Are you some kind of genius? It’s like you’re MI6!’
Kya shrugged. ‘Anyone could do it.’
‘Shut up. You’re too modest,’ she said. ‘You must’ve been freaking out.’
‘Not at first,’ Kya admitted. She had taken a fair amount of time to gloat. ‘Once I had him, it felt effing fabulous.’
‘And you let me sleep through all this?’ she cried. ‘You should have woken me up.’
‘You’re hours away from—’
‘Okay, fine. Why not tell me this morning?’
‘I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you, but I felt it was a distraction you didn’t need.’
‘Please, don’t ever be sorry,’ she said. ‘You were fearless back there. I just wanted to grab you and kiss you.’
‘You can grab me now,’ Kya said. ‘It’s not too late.’
Except, it was too late. The elevator doors slid open and a large group, more party guests, no doubt, were waiting to get in. Each looked as though they were going to very different events. Some in denim cut-offs and cowboy boots, others in silver disco glam, and a couple more in flowy boho frocks. Quinn took her hand and, together, they dashed out of the building and across the busy boulevard. Six rows of cars racing towards them. Kya wailed all the way.
‘I won’t get us killed. When will you trust me?’
‘Where are we going?’ Kya asked.
It was too early to head to the venue, and if the plan was to return home, the car was still in the building’s garage.
‘Over there!’ Quinn pointed to the observation wheel spinning in the distance, not far from the quiet corner of the park where they’d celebrated her billboard with pizza that first day they’d truly got to know each other. ‘I’ve always wanted to ride it. Okay with you?’
Kya nodded. Anything Quinn wanted was okay with her.
They made their way to the ticket booth. The attendant informed them that the ride was sold out. Tickets were only available online and booked in advance. Quinn presented him her phone. He scanned a code and produced two tickets.
Kya watched this transaction carefully. ‘When did you book the ride?’
‘A minute ago.’
‘A minute ago, you were meeting the billionaire music producer.’
‘He isn’t a billionaire,’ Quinn said. ‘But he is a bore. I booked the ride on my phone while pretending to take notes.’
‘Clever girl!’
‘Standing there, listening to him, it hit me: there was no reason to meet this so-called industry giant. He needed us. We’re doing the work, babe. We’re the innovators. They’re using us for profit. And I realized something else, even more important.’
‘What’s that?’ Kya asked, hanging onto her words. This gorgeous woman was a force of nature; no one was ever going to pull anything on her.
Quinn looked up at her. ‘I hated leaving you alone, and I had to find you.’
Before Kya could respond in any way, the attendant hollered, ‘Move aside! Next!’
They moved aside and got in line. When it was their turn, Kya took Quinn’s hand and guided her into the pod. They had it to themselves, a little cocoon in the sky. They sat on the same side with their legs propped up on the opposite bench.
‘Please don’t worry about me,’ Kya said. ‘I get that you’re busy, and I’m fine on my own.’
Quinn straightened up to confront her. ‘I’ll worry if I want!’
Okay. This conversation was taking a turn. ‘Let’s not fight,’ Kya said. ‘This is supposed to be romantic.’
‘Kya, a large part of romance is caring and worrying about one another.’
The wheel lurched into motion. Quinn fell back into Kya’s arms, and that put an end to any quarrel. Their little pod rose higher and higher, offering them a far superior view of the festival than the penthouse balcony. The crowd before the gates had swelled, and the police patrol was active, sirens swirling, directing the flow of traffic and the stream of people. It was one big colourful and chaotic mess.
‘I could switch out of my top up here, couldn’t I?’ Quinn said, looking around. ‘I had hoped to do it at the party.’
‘I’ll help.’
She pulled the golden halter top out of her bag and it caught the sun. She was going to look stunning on stage and Kya couldn’t wait. For now, though, she was happy to help her slip the soft T-shirt she wore over her head. Quinn moved onto Kya’s lap as she fastened the ties at the nape of her neck. Then Kya closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the velvet smooth skin of Quinn’s back. A large part of romance was simply knowing how good you had it.
Quinn leaned into her. ‘Look at all those people,’ she whispered.
For the first time today, she sounded unsure.
‘Are you nervous?’ Kya asked.
‘I’m not.’
‘It’s all right if you are.’
‘Okay, but I’m not,’ she said with a familiar uptilt of the head.
Kya wasn’t buying it.
‘If you get overwhelmed, keep your head down and focus on your sound. Do what comes naturally to you. At some point it will all flow. The nerves will pass, and you’ll blow their minds.’
‘And if I don’t?’ Quinn asked, quietly.
Kya hadn’t considered the worst-case scenarios. This colourful group of people were dance music experts, festival aficionados. What if she were heckled or booed off stage? Kya would fight them all.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ Kya replied. ‘We’ll get out of here, find an all-night diner and get pancakes, or tea and toast – whatever works for you.’
‘That sounds good,’ she said.
‘It won’t come to that. You’re ready, you will blow them away, and we’ll be celebrating at the end of the night. I promise you.’
Kya felt the moment the tension left Quinn’s body. She twisted and took Kya’s face between her hands. ‘Seal that promise with a kiss.’
‘I don’t want to ruin your make-up.’
Her lips were expertly lined and glossy. The make-up artist had done an amazing job. She couldn’t mess with that.
‘That’s fair,’ Quinn said, and pointed to the side of her neck. ‘How about here?’ She tugged at the bodice of the halter, dragging it low. ‘Or here?’
Kya followed the trail of her fingertips with her lips, as they spun round and round, forgetting the world and all that waited for them.